


stars align

by reversetheuniverse



Series: betwixt and between [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, time lapse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:22:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversetheuniverse/pseuds/reversetheuniverse
Summary: There have been no current threats looming since Cadmus has been taken down and an alien invasion stopped. After another near-death experience, Mon-El is finally managing to create a normal life for himself on Earth, as well as preparing to step foot into the world as a newly-minted superhero. Kara should be pleased with this, really, but for some reason she’s been . . . betwixt and between.She’ll figure it out. Eventually.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! 
> 
> So I've been dabbling in writing some stuff for Karamel for quite a bit now past my other fic "unfolding like a flower", but I didn't really have anything solidified/want to post anything until now. I am working on another Karamel fic currently, but I don't want to release anything for it until it's a complete thing since it's a multi-chap fic. Idk, I'm just not a fan of putting out a multi-chaptered fic until I've finished it entirely, so hopefully I'll get around to that.
> 
> But this is complete! I do have to fix the next two chapters first, but they'll be on the way soon after that. 
> 
> It's also a fic I wrote a few episodes ago before Kara and Mon-El got together and everything else, so this is my "fast forward" fic for that. I'm pretty sure I wrote this during the lull after 2x08. Basically, it's just been sitting in my documents folder on my laptop in the document meant specifically for Karamel fanfics. 
> 
> So yeah. Enjoy!!!

 

It sort of reminds her of a mama bird letting her little fledgling fly for the first time—

On one hand, it’s exciting and thrilling, and she can’t help but feel pride bubble up within her. On the other hand, she’s got this nagging voice in the back of her head telling her to be sad that he’s no longer under her wing.

 

But mama’s gotta let baby bird fly someday. She just doesn’t want it to be today.

 

“Did you bring the housing part of the paper? Alex said you’d be more than happy to help me find a new home around here. She said you could also come with me to see any of them.”

Kara takes a sip of coffee from her paper cup from _Noonan’s_ , her eyes trained on the newspaper in front of her, Mon-El’s words floating through her radar.

“She did, did she?” she asks, lifting her gaze to finally meet his. His face is lit up with joy as per usual, gray eyes twinkling.

“Yeah. So what do you say? Do you have time to help me out?”

She should say no to him, she really should. But she’s always been a sucker (not _just_ for him—in _general_ ), and his puppy-dog eyes sway her easily.

“Of course, Mon-El. Here, let me find the housing section and we’ll start looking into some. I can’t guarantee we’ll see everything today, but I’m sure we’ll be able to snag a few peeks into some apartments for you.”

Mon-El follows alongside Kara as she sifts through the paper, delighted that she’s helping him. Not that she can blame him, really. Even she can’t deny the fact that she’s been dodgy around him since he almost died. _Again_. Alex has suggested to her on multiple occasions that maybe she should talk about it with someone, or try to think on why she might be exhibiting such behavior [read: with her eyebrows raised suggestively, a smirk playing upon her lips.]

The best—and nicest—response Kara could come up with was in Kryptonian. An English equivalent would be somewhere along the lines of “shove it”. At least in Kryptonian it would translate a little politer.

“Here we go. Here’s housing! Why don’t you start looking through it and find things that you can afford?” She hands the paper over to Mon-El to search through as she takes a seat at one of the empty desks of the DEO, stealing another swig of coffee once she’s comfortable.

“How about in Green Acres?” Kara grits her teeth, making a _tss_ sound with her tongue.

“Probably _not_ a good idea. It may sound like a pleasant area, but it’s far from it. Any others?” He dips his head back down to look at the paper in his hands, a crease forming in his forehead as he scans the print.

“Sunset Creek?” Kara thinks on it for a couple of seconds.

“Sure, go ahead and mark that one. Any others?”

“Oak Park?”

“Mhm. That it?” Mon-El pauses a moment, his eyes caught on something on the page. Kara raises her brows at him, rising to meet him at eye-level.

“You find something good?” His eyes flash upward to meet hers, a spark of puckishness hidden in the ever-present twinkle.

“There’s an apartment open at Skyline Court,” he says, and Kara suddenly understands his change in behavior. “Apartment 112.”

This is it. This is Kara’s test, Mon-El’s test to _her_ , to show that she can handle things. This is her way to prove that she isn’t hiding anything, and that she’s perfectly _fine_ —because she is!

She can cope with the possibility of Mon-El being her next-door neighbor. Sure!

“You sure you can afford it?” she mutters weakly, cognizant of the high rent her apartment demands. It’s not cheap by any means, and she knows there have been months where she’s _barely_ made it.

“It says here that it’s $400 a month,” Mon-El answers, tapping on the little square section of the paper where the offer belongs.

“ _What?!_ ” Kara takes the paper from him, searching wildly for any reason why the rent might be _that freaking cheap_.

Mrs. Needleberg must be going senile or _something_. She’ll figure that out later.

“So is it alright if we check it out? I don’t want to approach on your—” Mon-El says, trying his best to be amicable with her as always, but Kara cuts him off, responding maybe a little _too_ quickly.

“Of course you can!” she exclaims, wearing a bright smile on her face that she _prays_ is convincing. Not really just for Mon-El, but for herself, too.

“Awesome!” he grins brightly, and Kara wonders in her mind just what exactly she’s getting herself into.

 

//

 

If Mrs. Needleberg sends one more suggestive glance in her direction, Kara might just flip the glossy, pristine, mahogany table seated in the middle of the dining room. She won’t, of course, because she’s nice, calm Kara Danvers and also someone who needs to keep her emotions in check as a part time superhero, but Mrs. Needleberg certainly isn’t making it easy on her.

“So, you said that all the furniture comes with it?” Mon-El asks Mrs. Needleberg, who nods her head in response.

“Indeed! The last couple who lived here _insisted_ that we keep the furniture in the apartment. It’s all really nice, too. Pier 1 Imports, you know.” Mon-El stares at Mrs. Needleberg blankly as they step into the kitchen, and Kara can’t help but chuckle to herself. Mon-El may be pretty well acquainted with Earth by now, but he’s not aware of _every_ last thing. Definitely not Pier 1 Imports.

“ _It’s a furniture store_ ,” Kara whispers behind her hand as take a look at the cabinets. He makes a face that tells her he understands, and they turn their attention back to Mrs. Needleberg.

“—They _just_ put in new cabinets and counters, too. Really, they were pretty generous with leaving the furniture and paying more than half the rent for the year. Makes me wonder what kind of job the mister of the household held.”

“Or _missus_ ,” Kara adds, but Mrs. Needleberg seems to not be paying her any mind.

“Oh! I almost forgot, you’ll want to see the bedroom! It’s done up _real nice_!”

Mrs. Needleberg reaches over and grabs both Kara and Mon-El’s hands, tugging them off towards the master bedroom of the apartment. Mon-El shoots Kara a look that says he’s enjoying the tour provided by Mrs. Needleberg immensely, and Kara can’t agree more.

It’s entertaining, in the very least.

“Ah, here we go,” Mrs. Needleberg announces, flipping on the light as they step inside a room down the hall. Mon-El's jaw drops, and Kara follows suit, gaping at the _humongous_ master bedroom of the apartment. Kara notices right away that it’s even bigger than her own, and she can’t help but be jealous.

“Wow, this really is a lot of space,” Mon-El admonishes, taking in all of the room at once.

“Yes, and the bed is big enough for the two of you!” Mrs. Needleberg says, winking at Kara afterward.

“ _Excuse me_?!” Kara coughs, while Mon-El mutters shyly,

“Oh, we’re not . . .”

Mrs. Needleberg gets the hint right away, but ever the optimist, adds a quiet,

“ _Anything can happen._ ”

 

She’s not wrong, but then again, that’s all of _life_.

 

Dead, awkward silence fills the room after their little exchange, and Kara _prays_ that Mrs. Needleberg will wrap up the tour so she can just go next door into her own apartment and crawl into bed with whatever little dignity she has left. Mon-El takes the initiative for her, though, breaking the lull in conversation to end it himself. Not _quite_ in the way she wanted him to.

“Alright, I’ll think I’ll buy it! When do I start signing up for it . . .?” Mrs. Needleberg’s face lights up with excitement, as she pulls him towards the table in the other room.

“Great! I’ll start drawing out the papers now and you can move in here as soon as possible!” As he stalks away, Mon-El turns back towards Kara to give her a smile and a thumbs up before following Mrs. Needleberg to get everything situated. Kara groans inwardly.

So much for running away from her problems.


	2. Chapter 2

Lena Luthor holds another one of her parties, insisting that Kara come attend, as well as bring all her friends (and family, too; she fondly remembers Alex.) So Kara invites along Alex, along with Maggie (of course—they are attached at the hip, and Kara can’t help but think that they would have a good time dancing together), and then asks Jimmy, Winn, and Mon-El to tag along.

Mon-El’s eyes light up at the request—as she recalls, he’s a _big_ fan of parties, and he considers this his second chance at a “real Earth party” (at least, since the last one was sort of a setup for catching the men employed by Cadmus.) He even ends up inviting Kara over to his new place to have her help him decide on a good outfit.

Kara doesn’t understand why—he was able to pick something out on his own last time. Why need her?

But then he promises he’ll order them some pot stickers, and Kara’s sold.

“Alright, as per your request, I brought the beer. You better have some pot stickers, or I’m out of here,” Kara announces as she enters Mon-El’s apartment, case of beer in hand. She uses the spare key he gave her when he officially moved in, careful to ignore the prickly feeling in her chest when she thinks of the implications.

He doesn’t get Earth customs. He wouldn’t have known what giving someone your key on this planet meant.

. . . At least, she _hopes_.

“Good! The pot stickers are here on the counter, just like you asked. We’ll make a trade,” Mon-El says as he appears in the room, walking to the kitchen to grab the container filled to the brim with them. Kara bounces excitedly as he hands them over, practically ripping the top off and using her heat vision to warm them up to the perfect temperature. Mon-El chuckles, removing a couple of beers from the cardboard box, twisting the caps off with ease and handing her one.

“How’d you know this was my favorite from Earth?” he asks after he steals a sip of the beer, grinning. Kara shrugs.

“I know a lot more than you think. A reporter like me has to be keen to this kind of stuff.” Mon-El raises a brow, his expression skeptic, but doesn’t press the matter, changing the subject instead.

“Alright, you ready to help me out? I want to look nice for this party.”

“Why, do you have someone you want to impress?” she mumbles nonchalantly through a mouthful of pot sticker. Mon-El casts a glance to the side before settling his beer glass on the counter with a tiny _clink_.

“Something like that . . . I’m going to go try something on. Just sit tight.”

He disappears down the hallways, leaving Kara puzzled from his words.

Just what _did_ he mean by, “ _something like that_ ”? Did that mean that he _did_ have someone he was trying to impress? And why does it bother her so much that she doesn’t know the answer to that? Wasn’t she trying her best to avoid interactions with him, and him taking a fancy to someone else only make her objective easier?

It worries her that she doesn’t understand her own feelings sometimes. Perhaps she’ll talk it over with Alex for once. It never did her well to keep things to herself, and Alex has always, _always_ been there for her.

 “Alright, what do you think?” Mon-El enters back into the room, only to have Kara almost spit out her drink.

He’s wearing an entirely _gold_ suit with a silver shirt and gold bow tie to match. She doesn’t even _begin_ to know where he could’ve gotten that suit, besides maybe a consignment shop or a thrift store.

Or a trashcan.

“Mon-El, can I be honest?” she asks him, earning an eager nod of the head from him.

“Of course! That’s what I brought you here for.” Kara makes a face at the suit, trying to figure out the best way to tell him that the suit is probably the biggest eyesore.

“You look like you got vomited on by a New Year’s Eve party,” she admits, grimacing. “Who gave you that thing?”

“Winn,” he replies, and she can only roll her eyes in response. She should’ve _figured_ that Winn would gift him that gaudy outfit. Winn’s been giving him bad advice since day one. She loves her friend, but he is _not_ what she would call a “good role model” for Mon-El.

“Okay, well, maybe you should listen a little _less_ to Winn. He doesn’t always give you the best advice. Why don’t you go try on something different? I’ll be waiting.” Mon-El beams at her and then vanishes again, allowing her the opportunity to finish up all the pot stickers before he notices.

Kara won’t apologize for that, not in the least bit.

Mon-El enters and re-enters the kitchen again and again with a new outfit, only for Kara to give it a thumbs down or a hesitant “ _maybe_ ”. She can tell he’s becoming increasingly frustrated by her lack of enthusiasm, but she can’t help but think that the outfits he’s chosen are all ones that Winn deemed “appropriate to woo the ladies”.

Sadly, they’re anything _but_.

After downing her second beer and contemplating ordering more pot stickers for herself, he appears back slowly into view, and Kara doesn’t say anything.

She _can’t._ She’s speechless.

“So? What do you think? . . . Is it another no?” he asks after a moment of her silence. Kara shakes her head, trying desperately to gather her thoughts and give him a proper answer.

His fit burgundy pants and navy blue blazer combo appeals to her, for some reason she can’t place. He’s got a plaid blue shirt buttoned up underneath, and it’s almost _perfect._

_Almost._

It’s missing some element she can’t place.

“Kara? Your silence is killing me here,” Mon-El prods at her, gaining back her attention. Finally, she’s able to formulate words.

“That’s it. That’s the outfit.” He grins immediately after her response, his eyes brightening with excitement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Her mind is dizzy, spinning in circles. In a hasty decision, she rises from the stool at the counter against her own volition, stepping up to him so there’s only a small gap of space existing between them. Mon-El stiffens at the interaction, especially after Kara reaches her hand up to his chest, but then she loosens the black tie around his neck, sliding it off and holding it up for him to see.

“You really should get a red bow tie instead,” Kara tells him, tossing the tie onto the couch only feet away from them. “It would look so much _better_.”

She doesn’t understand where this side of her is coming from. Kara Danvers is _not_ straightforward, never has been. Her mouth feels dry, her hands clammy, and her heart is racing a billion times its normal speed. Why does she feel this way? Why does Mon-El incite this in her?

“ _Kara_ ,” he mutters softly, in a tone that she can say she’s only ever heard from him once before—after he had woken up to her in the DEO’s infirmary while he was still infected with the Medusa, when he told her she was beautiful and then kissed her.

. . . Oh Rao, is he about to _kiss her_?!

“I just remembered, I gotta go. Snapper wants me to write an article and I haven’t even _begun_ to figure out a topic for it and I’ve got to get up super early in the morning! You can keep the rest of the beer. Bye, Mon-El!”

Before he can utter another word or even move stop her, Kara’s already on her way out the door and back into her own apartment, locking the door behind her and sliding onto the floor.

What was she thinking, almost letting something happen between the two of them? She’s sworn up and down to herself that there’s nothing going on between her and Mon-El. She doesn’t want anything to come between the relationship they’ve worked hard to build between the two of them, this mutual respect and friendship. Kara doesn’t want to ruin the one close-contact relationship that makes her feel like she’s not as alone in this world as she thought. And wasn’t she trying to help him impress someone else?

Leaving when she did was a good choice, she decides.

And _yet_ . . .

 

Kara doesn’t quite understand why, but she feels a longing in her heart she can’t rid herself of.

 

//

 

A day before the party, Mon-El calls Kara up to apologize, letting her know that he can’t attend the party because he has to cover the night shift at the bar. Kara wants to feel relief that she doesn’t have to deal with what almost happened the other night, but rather feels . . . _disappointed_.

She definitely won’t read into it.

Instead, she spends her time busying herself with work as Kara Danvers along with putting out a couple of fires, stopping several robberies, and getting a kitten out of a tree as Supergirl. The party comes up quickly for her, and she puts all her focus into getting ready and just having a good time.

One thing she’s always appreciated as Kara Danvers, secretary-turned-reporter of CatCo, were the parties. Dressing up is something she doesn’t get to do often (as in _dresses_ , aside from her Supergirl costume), so any opportunity in which she gets to is an exciting one for her.

Kara arrives exactly thirty minutes _after_ the gala was set to start, because if she’s learned anything about being in a big city with rich people, it’s that you don’t show up on time—a silly social rule, but one she sticks by.

She finds Alex and Maggie right away with ease, both sharply dressed in form-fitting, knee length dresses—Alex’s black and Maggie’s a stunning maroon. She chats idly with them until she finds Winn and James, using her time to catch up with them since she hasn’t seen them much as of late. Eventually, she ditches them too when she finds a plate full of pot stickers, and they smile and shake their heads when she points at them and runs to catch the server, expecting nothing less of Kara.

While she finishes up her array of pot stickers at one of the tables, she fails to notice an extra person enter into the threshold until she’s wiping off her fingers, the delicate tapping of a hand on her shoulder causing her to turn.

“Care to dance?”

The familiar voice pulls her from her pot sticker induced trance, and when her bright blue eyes meet his, she feels her heart leap within her chest, the empty well in the pit of her stomach disappearing almost instantaneously.

“Mon-El,” she says, breathless, “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Well, neither did I, but I was able to get someone to cover my shift. I didn’t want all our hard work to go to waste.” He gestures to his outfit, this time complete with glasses, as well as the red bow tie like she suggested to him.

He _listened_.

“It looks . . . you’re . . . you look very handsome, Mon-El,” Kara stumbles over her words.

“Kara, if I look handsome, you look _gorgeous_. I just . . . I almost didn’t recognize you when I walked in, to be honest. That is, until I saw you stuffing your face with pot stickers.” She snorts at his comment, unable to refute it. Sounds plausible to her. “You’re just absolutely stunning, and . . . _wow_.”

She supposes he’s right—she doesn’t ever really outright call herself beautiful or gorgeous, but tonight she feels it, wrapped up in the elegant dress she’s wearing. Kara’s not usually one to go sleeveless, but when she saw the knee-length, sleeveless blue dress adorned from the bodice to the bottom hem in pretty red flowers, she couldn’t say no. Besides, it’s like Alex has said—blue has _always_ been her color. Paired with her navy blue, satin heels all tied up her leg with a ribbon, she feels, well . . . _spectacular._

“Thank you, Mon-El,” she tells him, hoping the heat prickling at her cheeks hasn’t turned her entire face red. “Um, you said you wanted to dance?” His mouth curves upward into a small smile, and he extends out a hand.

“If that’s okay with you?” Kara nods, allowing him to take her hand. Mon-El’s larger, calloused hand wraps around her smaller one, and his heat immediately radiates throughout her entire body as he guides her to the middle of the ballroom. They stop together at the center and he presses his other hand to her waist, taking the lead as they initiate a dance, flowing with the soft trills of the music swelling in the background.

“You know, this is our second dance,” Mon-El comments as they twirl around the room amongst the other couples dancing. “And this time, we won’t have to worry about someone bursting in to crash it.”

“What, you didn’t like getting blasted in the chest by alien weaponry?” Kara teases. Mon-El laughs.

“Oh, that was _wonderful_. An experience like no other.”

Together, the two of them remain in perfect rhythm, and Kara stands no chance at stepping on his toes, thankfully. She may be Supergirl, but as Kara Danvers, she can be a bit of a klutz sometimes.

“Kara,” Mon-El calls to her again, this time his voice low, his features rigid. “We need to talk.”

“We _are_ talking,” Kara tells him nervously, trying to avoid the inevitable. She should know better than to think he’d let that slide by now.

To him, life is too short at any moment. Kara has yet to learn that lesson.

“I’m being serious, Kara,” he continues to press. “I wanted to talk to you about this for a while now, but every time I wanted to, the rest of the world got in the way.”

She understands what he means. Everything has been so hectic for them the past few months, and after taking care of all the big threats preventing them from normalcy, a lull in urgency has finally arrived.

“ _Okay_ ,” she breathes, trying her best to tamper down the anxiety building in her chest to no avail. The music switches to a much slower song than before, and without even thinking, they press closer to each other, their dancing slowing down with the tempo of the tune.

“This whole chaotic mess that we were tangled in before prevented me from telling you something that’s been on my mind, probably since a few months back. My nerves have also kept me from getting the words off my chest, along with my doubts about how you felt about me.”

“Mon-El, you know I like you a lot,” Kara attempts to reassure him, and he offers her a quick quirk of the lips before continuing.

“Yeah, but not . . . I remember us talking about this before, but I never gave you an answer to the question you asked. Or, not the one I _wanted_ to give to you.”

“Which was . . .?”

“You asked me if I _liked you_ liked you, which of course, I didn’t understand at the time. So you explained it to me in a less subtle way than I’m sure you liked, but I was able to understand what you meant. You asked me if I wanted to mate with you.”

Kara gulps, her face burning hotter than a pizza oven.

This is it. This is the confrontation she’s been expecting to pop up at any time, and the time is _now_. And to be honest . . .

She doesn’t know if she minds much.

“So what is your answer to the question, Mon-El of Daxam?” she asks, careful to mask any emotion in her words.

“Kara Zor-El of Krypton, I—”

As if on some sort of untimely cue, the sound of a crash beckons her attention, the sight of three aliens breaking into the ballroom turning her head in the process.

“Alright, cough up the money and the jewels, _NOW!!!_ ”

“ _Of course_ ,” Kara mutters under her breath. “Mon-El, I’ve gotta—” As she shifts back to look at him to excuse herself, she sees that he’s gone from sight, nowhere to be found. She shrugs his disappearance off, running off to the side to disappear herself so she can change.

It only takes her a split second to change into her Supergirl garb, and when she appears back into view, she starts by standing up to the group of aliens trying their best to take aim at innocent standers-by. Thankfully for her, the weapons are human made this time, so she doesn’t have to worry as much about getting her ass kicked by foreign technology.

“Alright guys, can we cut this short? These nice people were having a party and I don’t really want to keep them from it,” Kara attempts to negotiate with them, but they don’t want any of it. The one in the middle attempts to shoot at her with his gun, and she’s just about to speed up to him, but instead she’s cut off by a form standing in front of her.

He’s poised with confidence, in his red-trimmed suit and blue boot combo, and although she can only see his backside, he oozes a sense of familiarity that Kara can’t place.

Until she does.

 

_Oh. My. RAO._

 

“I’m with Supergirl. Can we cut this short? I was having a pretty good night until you arrived,” Mon-El quips, and Kara can feel herself teetering on the edge.

What the _hell_ does he think he’s doing?!

“How about we don’t, and we continue taking all the stuff from these rich people whose pockets are stuffed to the brim with cash? I like that idea,” the alien on the side grins, lifting up his gun and shooting.

Kara almost has a conniption as the bullet heads towards Mon-El, because as she recalls, bullets are made of _lead._ As in, Mon-El’s one _weakness._ But he holds up his hand when she lurches forward to take action, and she watches in abject horror-turned-awe as the bullet reaches him, crumpling against his suit and landing onto the ground with a _clink_.

Okay, Winn _definitely_ had a part in this.

“Poor choice, my good sir. How about I help you out with that?”

Kara stands and watches Mon-El, dumbfounded as he takes down the alien that shot at him without difficulty, until she remembers that it’s her job to help, too. So she springs into action, going after the other two that have taken to ripping necklaces and watches from the people cowering around as they hold guns to their heads. She flips one of them then blasts the other with her freeze breath, stopping them in their tracks. Her foot reaches to kick their weapons from reaching distance, and once they’ve been restrained, the crowd begins to clap, confused by the unknown addition to crime fighting, but relieved nonetheless.

“Alright, Kara. Maggie and I can take it over from here. We’ll get these guys over to the DEO,” Alex cuts in, manifesting a few pairs of handcuffs from her clutch. Kara raises an eyebrow at her.

“Were you anticipating this?” Alex makes a non-committal gesture with her hand.

“Happened once before here. One can never be too careful.” She also pulls out her phone, handing over the cuffs to Kara, Mon-El, and Maggie so that they can lock up the aliens lying on the ground, dialing someone afterward.

“Hello? J’onn? . . . Yeah, if you could send a couple of people over to help, that’d be great. Thanks.”

With the aliens out of the way, someone quickly runs up to Mon-El before Kara has the chance to pull him aside, a recorder in their hand.

“Excuse me, sir, but could you tell us just who you are?” the news reporter asks, holding the recorder up to him. He offers her a classic Mon-El smirk, hands perched on his sides.

“Of course. My name is _Valor_.”

Before the reporter has a chance to talk to him more and bombard him with questions, Kara tugs on his arm, tilting her head towards the side.

“If you would excuse us, _Valor_ and I need to talk.”

Mon-El gets the hint from Kara, following her to the side door of the ballroom, one that leads to the alleyway outside. When they turn to face each other, Mon-El’s expression becomes confused, his brows scrunching together.

“Are you angry with me, Kara? It seems like you’re really angry with me.” Kara thins her lips, her nostrils flaring.

“Oh, I’m not angry with you, Mon-El,” she tells him, and relief washes over his face.

“Okay, good. Because I—”

“I’m _infuriated_ with you,” Kara cuts him off. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I think I’m doing what you’ve been wanting me to do for a long time,” he answers her blankly. “Why, does that upset you?”

“ _YES_ ,” she breathes. “You could’ve been hurt out there, you know? You’re not impervious to _lead bullets_!” Mon-El shrugs.

“Winn said the suit was bullet proof. He designed it himself, and tested it, too. I figured I’d be safe, especially with you there.”

“I’m not always going to be there, Mon-El!” Kara raises her voice at him. “What happens if someone shoots at your face? What happens if the suit tears and _then_ you get shot at, and then I’m not there? What then?!”

“Kara, you _wanted_ me to be a hero. I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me for doing the very thing that you’ve been preparing me for.”

“Yes, but you’re _not ready_. I didn’t approve of you going out on the field yet.” Mon-El crosses his arms, furrowing his brow.

“Yes I _am_ ,” he tells her firmly, rigid and unmoving. “I’m here to help now, and I’m going to continue fighting crime by your side, Kara. You can’t stop me from helping you.”

She decides quickly that she’s had it with fighting with him. In a fit of pure anger, she blasts her heat vision at a trashcan, melting it before blasting off into the sky.

Kara doesn’t understand why this is making her this _angry_. Anger isn’t an emotion she feels often, especially not against Mon-El. Sure, sometimes his actions annoy her, but most of the time it’s just because he doesn’t quite understand some Earth custom or something. His actions don’t usually warrant her melting a trashcan and flying away.

But he doesn’t seem to understand _why_ she’s angry! He doesn’t get that he’s not ready for the world! Mon-El’s not ready to take on any threat, not yet. He doesn’t realize that he’s not invincible, and that only death could be looming around the corner for him.

Whatever. Why is she worrying herself about him, anyway? If she’s really mad at him, she won’t think about him.

Kara flies home, unable to enjoy the rest of the gala. She’d rather stew away in her house and watch a movie than remain out in the world. She’s no good to people as Supergirl when her emotions aren’t in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, the blue and red on Mon-El appeals to you, Kara? I wonder why??? (*insert smug face*)
> 
> Okay, here's another chapter finally! The next one will follow soon, but that one will need a little more doctoring than this one. It was just delayed a little bit because I was being lazy and not working on it. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Kara, I know you’re in there! . . . If it makes you feel any better, I brought pizza. Two boxes worth, with all your favorite toppings. Although, we might have to nuke it a bit . . .”

If there’s one thing Kara’s grateful for in her life, it’s her sister, Alex. Alex knows _exactly_ how to cheer her up when she’s down in the dumps. And as much as she doesn’t want to invite her in (she _knows_ Alex is here to talk about the other night), she’s not one to let all that pizza go to waste.

“Alright, get your butt in here so I can warm up that pizza,” Kara says, swinging the door open. Alex grins, stepping into her apartment triumphantly. Alex hands one of the boxes over to her, placing the other on the counter while Kara warms the first up with her heat vision.

“So, are we going to talk about what happened the other night, or do I need to order several more pizzas to get the information out of you?” Alex asks her as she takes a slice from the box, crashing onto her sofa. Kara follows suit, grumbling when she sits next to her.

“Nothing happened, Alex.” Alex shoots her a look that says “ _bullshit_ ”, because Kara should know better than to lie to her sister. Although they may not be blood, they sure do understand each other like it.

“So I was just ‘imagining’ you dragging Mon-El off to the alleyway with an irritated look on your face? And I was just ‘imagining’ the melted trashcan I found in your wake?” Kara sinks further into the couch, propping her legs up on the coffee table in front of her.

“Maybe?” Alex sends her an unamused look, rolling her eyes.

“Uh _huh_. Okay, maybe I should shoot for before then. We haven’t talked about why you’d been ignoring him in the first place.” She pauses a moment, registering her own words before a look of epiphany dawns on her. “ _Ohhhh_ , I get it now!”

“Get what? What’s there to get?”

“You’ve been upset because he almost died again, and you didn’t want that to happen. So when he appeared at your side as Valor, you were angry because you thought he was just going out of the way to put himself into danger, and that he was going to get hurt again. And you didn’t feel like you’d be able to prevent it from happening the next time.” Kara makes a _tch_ sound, crossing her arms against her chest.

“And your point is . . .?”

“You care about him,” Alex tells her simply. Kara’s eyes practically bug out of her skull.

“ _Pffffffft!!!_ I do _not_ care about him!” she tries to insist, but Alex already has an impish expression on her face that doesn’t seem to want to go away. She smirks playfully waving a piece of pizza in her face.

“You like him!! You ~ _liiiiiiiike_ Mon-El!!!” Alex sings, amused by her sibling’s embarrassment.

“Alex, noooo! That’s not it!” Kara smacks the pizza out of Alex’s hand and it drops onto the floor, causing both of them to sober up immediately. She sits up afterward, facing Alex, her brow furrowed. “At least, I don’t _think_ it is . . .”

“Oh, _Kara_ ,” Alex coos, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder, “Why is it so difficult for you to admit that you might have feelings for him?”

“Because—” Kara stops before she has time to explain, because she doesn’t have a reason in her mind. Because what Alex said has some sort of truth behind it. She just never wanted to admit it to herself.

Why _would_ Mon-El dying affect her so much? Why _would_ it bother her instead of please her that he was finally a hero? Why has she been so keen on avoiding him lately?

Maybe because . . .

Because Alex is right. Of _course_ she’s right.

Oh Rao, Kara _does_ have feelings for Mon-El! That’s why she’s so angry at him for putting himself into danger, why she didn’t want to talk to him after he almost died again. She cares about him _so much_ that it physically hurts her to want to get attached, because the possibility of him dying is so _real_ to her. She doesn’t want to lose him. He’s her closest tie to Krypton, and one of her best friends now.

Losing him would be like losing a limb.

She’s been stupid not to realize it by now, too. Kara’s been so dead-set in denial over her feelings that she’d rather yell at him and burn a trashcan than deal with them. Mon-El’s found a way to root himself inside her heart and grow until she could no longer push him out, no longer rid herself of the connection they have. He’s a part of her, her other half, her _soulmate_.

“Kara?” Alex prods at her, bringing her back down from the clouds.

“You’re right,” Kara says, sighing.

“Excuse me?”

“I said that you’re _right_ ,” Kara clarifies, groaning.

“Right about what?” Alex asks, confused by Kara’s sudden change in demeanor.

“I do care about Mon-El. More than that, even. I _like_ like Mon-El.” After realization sets in, Kara buries her head between her knees, threading her fingers through her hair. “ _Ugh_ , what do I do now?! I yelled at him because I couldn’t figure out my own stupid feelings!” Alex reaches over to pat her back reassuringly.

“You also melted a trashcan,” she adds.

“ _Alex_.”

“I know, not helpful. Why don’t you just go apologize, Kara? I’m sure he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t, then to hell with him. You don’t need a jerk in your life.” Kara lifts her head to look at her sister, chuckling.

“Thanks, Alex,” she says, rubbing at her face. “When should I apologize?”

“Now,” Alex answers her abruptly. Kara cocks her head.

“ _Now?_ ” She nods her head.

“No time like the present. Now go get ‘em. I’ll be in here sitting on your couch, watching TV and eating pizza while I wait.”

She nudges Kara off the couch and Kara makes her way towards the door. After a few more encouraging words from Alex, she parts, walking up slowly to Mon-El’s door, praying silently that he’s not in so she doesn’t have to confront her problems now. But when she knocks, he appears almost instantaneously, as if he was expecting her to be there.

“Kara?” he calls out to her.

“ _Heyyyyy_ , Mon-El,” she mutters shyly, losing the speech she had been practicing in her mind as she walked over.

“Is something the matter?” Kara sucks nervously on her lower lip, trying to muster up the words that would make things alright between the two of them. Finally, she sighs, just letting whatever comes to mind out.

“I just . . . I wanted to apologize for the other night. I know I didn’t treat you fairly, and you were right. You were just doing what I had been telling you to be doing, and I had no right to try to stop you.” He raises a brow at her, but he certainly doesn’t seem mad at her at all. It’s more like he’s just happy to see her standing in front of his door, talking to him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Kara. I should’ve told you ahead of time that I was planning this. I just didn’t realize it would be that night. Winn wanted me to wear the outfit to get comfortable, and so when those aliens popped out, I just thought . . .”

“You just thought it was your time to help,” she nods, understanding. “And it was. I shouldn’t have told you that you weren’t ready. You _are_ ready, Mon-El. It’s just me who wasn’t ready. I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.”

“Kara,” he says, placing his hands on her shoulders, “It’s not like you’re not going to be able to teach me still. I’m fighting alongside you. I’ll _always_ be there for you.” She casts her eyes to the ground timidly after he tells her that, but her mouth still curls into a soft smile.

“Thank you, Mon-El. I’ll always be here for you, too. You’ll never have to worry about that.”

Her eyes flash back up to his, and when she looks at him, it’s different this time. She sees the conviction he holds in her, the admiration he has for her in the piercing gray of his eyes. Kara understands it, because it’s the same feelings she holds for him, right in her heart.

“Mon-El,” she starts to utter, almost tempted to just lurch forward and press her lips to his and call it a day, but she’s cut off by none other than her sister.

“Hey, Kara, do you mind if I— _Oh_. Whoops, sorry! I’ll go now!” Alex disappears just as soon as she appears, but the moment has passed, and a stretch of space has long been placed between her and Mon-El.

“I should probably go back to Alex,” Kara tells him, pointing towards her own door. Mon-El gives her a nod of understanding and she shifts to walk back towards, pausing only once so she can say one last thing to him.

“It’s going to be a pleasure working with you, _Valor_ ,” Kara says with a wink. She turns back and enters into her own apartment, closing the door gently, a warm smile on her face.

“Did ya kiss him?” Alex interrupts her daydream, pulling her back down from Cloud Nine. Kara shoots her a look.

“Don’t you already know the answer to that question, Alex? Or should I call you, ‘Miss Eavesdrop’?” Alex grins unabashedly.

“What are sisters for? Besides, I need you to help me finish off this pizza and watch more _Stranger Things_ with me. They _just_ pulled Will out of the water and I need to know if he’s really dead or not.” Kara sighs, rolling her eyes at her sister and plopping down on the couch next to her.

Perhaps another day she’ll tell Mon-El about her feelings for him.

 

//

 

Kara has to admit—she likes being part of a superhero duo.

She and Mon-El team up several times after she apologized to him and encouraged him fighting crime by her side. The name “Valor” becomes printed across every newspaper and every magazine in National City, and Kara’s pretty proud of how far he’s come.

She even doesn’t mind the papers that speculate Supergirl and Valor being a thing.

Of course, that’s probably because she hasn’t confessed her undying love for him yet (as Alex would put it—she said it sounded a lot more formal/less childish than confessing her “ _like_ like” for him). But she’s working on it! Kara’s trying to find a good moment to tell him, and so far every time she tries, she ends up smelling like burnt toast (from the fire on fifth), or like dog food (robbery at the dog food factory, a weird one indeed), or even like a sewer (she’s not even going to _begin_ to get into that one).

It just seems like every chance she has, the universe is telling her that maybe she _shouldn’t_ be with Mon-El. Which she does hate, because she genuinely likes him, and she doesn’t have to fight for his affection as much as she did the last time she was interested in someone. As a bonus, she doesn’t have to worry about the two of them not having time to spend together—they constantly fight crime side-by-side. S

Most importantly, she doesn’t have to worry about possibly breaking someone’s fragile human body (she worries about that a _lot_ , actually).

With Mon-El, loving him would be easy. But getting him to love her back?

Harder than she thought.

Luckily for her, though, she doesn’t have time to worry about who likes whom, because between working for Snapper and being Supergirl, her time remains fairly preoccupied. In fact, it even manages to escape her mind for a whole week.

But she soon comes to understand the term “better late than never”.

“Alright, have you spotted our problem yet?”

“No, I think we got a few more blocks to go yet. Wait a minute . . .”

Mon-El’s eyes search the city below as Kara flies the two of them over the city, holding him up by his arms. Normally she doesn’t carry him; she usually flies while he leaps from building to building. But today, they’re being beckoned all the way across the city, so time is of the essence.

“You spot something?” Kara asks him, slowing down her speed a bit. Mon-El nods his head.

“Yeah, below. I’m thinking that National City doesn’t glow like that usually.” Kara takes note of the weird luminescence below before flying down there, dropping Mon-El as soon as they’ve made it within a few feet of the ground.

Flashes of light appear around, and the screaming of people fleeing the area blends in with the sound of explosions. Kara and Mon-El exchange glances, silently agreeing on what to do and splitting off from each other after. Kara flies off to find the source of the explosions, and Mon-El works to get any innocent bystanders out of the area.

“Ah, Supergirl! I’m glad you could make it to the main event! And it seems like you brought your little sidekick along, too!”

A man appears out of the crowd, covered in black clothing that’s padded and adorned to the nines in large pockets. Kara uses her x-ray vision to get a visual on what he’s hiding, and becomes quickly aware of the explosives he’s decorated head to toe in. She squints at the man.

“What do you mean ‘main event’?” she asks, landing several feet away from him. He grins, retrieving something from his pocket.

“Just this,” the man says, and before she can make any move, he’s pressing a red button, setting off a chain reaction of explosions from his own vest.

As the impact of the explosives comes toward her, she’s pulled out of the way by someone. The shockwave of the blasts still hits them, though, causing them to fly backward into one of the buildings. Kara feels the wind get knocked out of her, disorienting her in the process.

After a few minutes pass, she’s able to regain consciousness, her mind still dizzy but getting better as the seconds pass. Her blurred vision disappears, and as soon as she’s able to see clearly, she looks to see who saved her from the explosion, her heart dropping liking an anchor almost immediately.

_Mon-El_.

What concerns her even more than him just getting hurt by the blast is the gouge in his forehead, a shard of metal sticking out of it that Kara’s able to identify right away— _lead_.

She crawls up next to him, placing his head on her lap so that she can try to fix him up as best as she can, her chest aching with worry.

“Come on, Valor. _Talk to me_ ,” she pleads, careful to use his superhero name as she cradles his head in her hands. “I need you to talk to me. You _need_ to let me know you’re alright.”

Kara jumps in surprise when he coughs, coming to, but frowns when she notices he’s still weak. His eyes slowly flicker open, stormy grays peering up into her sky blues.

“Wha . . .” he trails, unable to form a sentence. Kara furrows her brow at him.

“It’s alright. Just listen to me, okay?” she says, feeling tears forming at her eyes, threatening to push their way through the hold she has on them. Mon-El nods his head, only barely, his hand reaching out for hers. She takes it and squeezes it gently, giving him reassurance.

“I need to take the shrapnel out of your head. It’s going to be a little painful, but once it’s out, it’ll be able to heal and you’ll recover a lot quicker. Is that okay?” Mon-El offers Kara the barest hint of a smile, his attempt to comfort her, but it only makes her heart break to see him in this condition. He squeezes her hand back and she knows he’s ready for her to extract the damaging metal.

Kara reaches up to his forehead, careful not to tug on the shard too hard as she pulls it out. She feels Mon-El shudder underneath her, obvious of his immense pain, but she continues to pull on it until it’s free from his skin. He sighs with relief and she can’t help but do the same.

“Thanks, Supergirl,” he mutters, attempting to sit up. She presses him back down, shaking her head.

“No way. You are _not_ getting up yet. You just saved me from an explosion and then had lead in your system. You’re in no shape to be moving.” He arches a brow at her.

“Okay, but don’t you need to get back to help put out those fires?”

Damn, he’s right.

Kara makes Mon-El promise that he won’t move before flying off to help the firefighters extinguish the remaining fires in the area.

She’s in a rush to return to him, but she needs to remember her priorities as a hero—the people come first. That’s always a must. She uses her ice breath to take care of the problem areas until they’ve died down, and makes sure to tend to any civilians that were injured. Luckily for her, Mon-El had already cleared the area before the bomber set off his explosives, and most made it out unscathed.

Honestly, what would she do without him?

Kara talks with a few of the remaining firemen to make sure everything is in check, as well as the police officers that enter the scene to report what happened. She does her part to secure the area, and, when she’s _positive_ that all is clear, she returns to where she left Mon-El.

He’s seemingly much _much_ better than before, made noticeable by him standing and leaning against the building, but she can tell that he’s still relatively bad off.

“Come on,” Kara says once she’s beside Mon-El, holding out an arm. “Let’s go home.”

 

//

 

“Are you sure it’s not going to hurt?” Mon-El asks once they’ve returned to his apartment, back in their civilian clothes. Kara stands by, dipping the tiny tweezers pinched between her fingers into the cup of hydrogen peroxide she has sitting on the counter.

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be fine,” she answers him. He makes a face at her.

“You’re crinkling in your forehead again. I can see it from here.” After she’s sterilized the metal tweezers, she walks towards the couch where Mon-El’s seated. She places the tweezers onto the sheet of cotton already lying there, taking the gauze next to it and dabbing a bit of hydrogen peroxide on it.

“Alright, sit still if you can. I have to clean out the wound,” Kara instructs Mon-El.

“Yes, Dr. Kara,” he says cheekily, and she ignores him, focusing entirely on fixing up the wound on his forehead. She reaches up to the cut and blots it with the gauze. Mon-El does his best not to move, but Kara can tell he’s tampering down the urge to squirm pretty hard. She places the gauze back down on the coffee table once she’s finished, picking up the tweezers, holding it up in front of his face.

“Okay, this is going to be the hardest part. Since the area where the lead shard pierced your skin still has a couple of tiny fragments left inside, I have to reach in with these metal tweezers and extract the remaining shards before the wound heals completely. I would suggest biting down on that pillow next to you,” she suggests, pointing over to his side. His steel-gray eyes peer up at her, wide and naïve of what’s to come.

“They’re not deep, are they?” Kara grits her teeth, looking at him with lips turned downward.

“Unfortunately, yes. But no worries, I can get them out. I just have to sort of . . . dig in there.” Mon-El’s eyes flash with worry, his own forehead crinkling this time.

“It’s not going to hurt . . . right?”

“Do your best not to pass out,” is Kara’s only response.

Before he has a chance to protest, she goes right for it, plunging the forceps into the wound. She hears the edge of the couch crack from where Mon-El’s gripping it, but soldiers on through the rest of her DIY home surgery, carefully cleaning him up, good as new. Thankfully, there’s only two tiny pieces, and once she’s retrieved them, she presses gauze to the gaping cut until the bleeding recedes.

“There,” Kara announces after she places a bandage across his forehead. “You’re good to go.”

She almost laughs because Mon-El looks like a blood vessel is about to pop out of his forehead, a dent in the couch where his fingers were, but she mostly feels pity.

This shouldn’t have happened. Kara should be the one who took the brunt of the explosion, but instead Mon-El did.

Why? Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to play hero for her when she’s the one who could survive something like that?

She doesn’t understand.

“Can we please never do that again? I was not a fan,” Mon-El jokes, finally letting out all the tension he built up from having to endure the at home medical procedure. Kara gives him a half-hearted chuckle as she cleans up, but her heart still weighs heavy, the scene of the bomb going off playing again and again in her head.

She should know better than to expect him not to pick up on anything, because as soon as she’s done putting away all the stuff underneath the sink, he’s by her side, worry wrinkled into his forehead.

“Kara, it’s not your fault,” Mon-El insists softly. “I chose to do what I did. You couldn’t stop me.” Her eyes don’t meet his, remaining trained on the floor.

“Mon-El, I’m not vulnerable to lead. I would’ve been _fine_! And I should’ve been able to stop that man before he—” Kara tries to protest, but Mon-El isn’t having any of it. He places a hand underneath her chin, bringing her face up so she can look at him.

“ _Kara_ ,” he cuts her off, “It’s not your fault. You did all you could. You got us there as soon as you had the chance, and you put all those fires out. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders all the time, okay? That’s why I’m here to help you. You don’t have to be alone.”

That’s when Kara realizes something—to hell with uncertainty! To hell with fearing mortality!

Life is too short to not go for the things you want most in life.

Kara tugs Mon-El down to her level, bringing his lips to hers.

Hope blooms within her heart, as well as a surge of overwhelming elation, and electricity sparks within her veins. Too long had it been since the last time they had kissed. But this kiss is hers, her words to him—

_This is how I feel. Take me or leave me_.

Before she has the chance to pull away, Mon-El draws her closer to him, his fingers threading through the loose strands of hair at the side of her face. His rough lips brush against hers, deepening the kiss as heat rolls off him in waves.

Kara wants to remain like this, pressed up against him, but she knows all too well that it was only a couple of hours ago that he had been injured. He needs his rest.

“Mon-El,” she calls out to him, finally managing to break the kiss, “You should be sitting down.” Kara looks up, her gaze meeting his. His eyebrow shoots into his forehead, a goofy grin forming on his lips.

“Oh yeah? What for?” Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and she smacks her hand against his chest.

“You need rest!” she exclaims, pushing away from him. “Get some rest, and we can talk about this in the morning, okay?”

“Of course, Kara. Anything for you,” he tells her, giving her a look that causes her heart to swell. Kara offers him a small smile before parting out his door, saying her final goodbye until the morning.

When she enters her apartment, she closes her door gently behind her, her mind swirling with an array of thoughts. She feels just as floaty as she did when she had downed that alcohol that had generously been donated to her and Mon-El at the alien bar. But although her mind is dizzy, she’s never thought more clearly in her life.

Kara contemplates texting Alex about what had happened, but she knows Alex would rather hear it in person. She can also guess what Alex would say about it.

_“You just left him in his apartment? You kissed him and then **left**? Why the hell would you do that?!”_

. . . And she would be _right_.

What the hell is she still doing in her apartment when she could be next door, kissing the man she adores?

Kara strolls back up to her own door, swinging it open with pure confidence until she’s face-to-face with Mon-El again, their timing impeccable.

“Mon-El?” He rubs the nape of his neck nervously, a sly smirk on his face.

“I know you told me to rest, but there was something I needed to do, if that’s alright.”

“What is it?”

“Is it alright if I kiss you again? I’d really like to do that,” Mon-El asks her.

The corners of Kara’s mouth tug upward until she’s beaming a wide, pearlescent smile, her eyes sparkling with pure elation.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is finished!!! I hope you all enjoyed it!!!!
> 
> P.S. Stay tuned for my part 2 to this fic, which will just be a series of ficlets surrounding this storyline. I already have the first chapter ready to go, and will post it soon!
> 
> :)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the rent thing.
> 
> Apartment rent in New York, I imagine, can't be that cheap. But like, I don't live in New York, so you're getting my "I've never lived in an apartment before so what is rent" Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free-Card. Also, I read an article on Supergirl before because I wanted to know what Kara's apartment complex was called, but that's not something that's been mentioned in the show before. I did, however, discover an article somewhere where the writers of the show (I think?) tried to explain why Kara can afford the apartment she does live in with the job she has, and it mentioned a nice landlord named "Mrs. Needleberg", so I supplied the character for said landlord.
> 
> Also, perhaps I'll write a small prequel for this fic after I'm done? I don't know; we'll see. Spring break is coming up for me, so I could persuade myself.
> 
> Anywho, stay tuned for the next couple of chapters!


End file.
